


19986: What Will Forgeries Look Like in The Future?

by noetherSA



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: All kinds of spoilers, Gen, Mystery, bits and pieces of the rest of the cast, wrong answers only!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26952235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noetherSA/pseuds/noetherSA
Summary: Welcome to the sea of fragments. The witches of Certainty and Miracles will be your guides.The difficulty is unmatched. You'll have to pull out all the tricks at your disposal to keep your head above water. The truth will not save you here.Bernkastel and Lambdadelta explore a series of forgeries with weird rules and wrong answers in an attempt to stave off the boredom for another afternoon.
Relationships: Bernkastel/Lambdadelta (Umineko no Naku Koro ni)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 29





	1. Solipsism of the Golden Witch: Questions

“-ern, Bern, Bern, Bern, Bern, Bern, Bern~♪” 

Lamdadelta chants playfully as she rubs my shoulder, rudely dragging me from my slumber. I pretend to stay asleep in the hopes that she’ll leave me alone. The sweet scent of caramel popcorn fills the room. No doubt she’s gotten sweets and wrappers scattered all over our bed again as I’ve been sleeping.

“Beeeeeeeeeeern,” she whines, her hand rifling through my hair. She starts scratching the back of my neck. “Come onnnnn, wake up, I got somethin to show you!!” 

I try to push the last remnant of the dream I’d been having from my mind. Even after this long, it seems Hinamizawa is still burned into the back of my eyelids. I instead try to focus on her touch, the warmth of her thighs under my cheek, and the softness of her pyjamas.

“I know you’re awake Bern, quit ignoring me!” Lamdadelta commands. 

She’s petting me more vigorously, now with both hands crawling all over my body. It makes my hair stand on end. I can’t stand more than a moment of this. My eyes snap open and I swat at her face with my fingernails outstretched, tearing the skin along her cheek. 

“Owowowow,” Lambdadelta brings her hand to her face, and inspects it as if she expects to see blood. An old habit, I suppose. “Damn it Bern, I just reupholstered that a decade ago!”

“I’d say a rude awakening deserves at least that much,” I retort.

“You’re so mean!” She pouts, “Move your head, I need to go sew this up before I start leaving cotton candy all over our house”

“I’m perfectly comfortable here,” I flash her a devious grin. “Now, what were you so excited about? This had better be important.”

She sighs. “Remember that kid Beato’s game?”

I right myself and fold my arms. The humiliation still stings like a fresh lash from a whip. “For bringing that up, I ought to scratch you again. Maybe all the way up your spine this time.”

“Come on, it’s been ages, Bern! You’re not still holding a grudge are you?” She snakes an arm around my shoulders and yanks me close to her. The soft fabric of her face presses up against my cheek. “Anyway, have you ever gone through the forgeries people have made?”

“Not besides the ones Featherine wrote,” I sigh, consigned to the conversation. “And only because you made me. What’s the point? Willard already dragged the guts out of Beato’s game, Featherine found Beato’s Confession, Ange read the Book of the Single Truth... there’s nothing left to find. It’s a solved game. You wouldn’t want to sit around and watch an idiot play tic-tac-toe wrong, would you? What’s to gain from reading the dross churned out by endless voyeurs on the internet?”

“It’s interesting!” There’s a mischievous glint in Lambda’s eye. “Maybe we know the truth of Beato’s catbox, but there’s Endless ways for someone else to miss the mark. And humans find some pretty fascinating ways to be wrong. Sometimes they get weirdly close to the truth purely by chance, sometimes they’re so wrong it has me in stitches... and sometimes they’re completely nonsensical on purpose because they want to prove a point. Think of it this way: watching some kids be bad at tic-tac-toe would be boring as hell, but it might be fun to watch a chess game with all knights, or a football game where the field is 1 yard long and 1000 yards wide.”

“I still don’t get it. It seems like a waste of time to read something that you know for a fact that it makes no sense.”

“Wasting time is all we have, babe,” Lambda points out. I hate that she’s right. “And besides, wasn’t End so much fuuuun?"

“I hated every second of that game and you know it,” I sneer.

“Oh, I _know_ you adored it, Bern,” Lambda teases. “You were having the time of your life until Battler made an idiot out of Erika. Anyway, here, take a look at this one.” With a flick of her wrist, a crystalline fragment appears, glowing faintly in her hand. “This is what I was excited about earlier.”

“I doubt it’s something worth waking me up for.”

“Oh, I assure you it is, with Certainty. Here, let’s go back to the beginning.”

As we peer inside, the two of us are consumed by the familiar pouring rain of the morning of October 5th, 1986. The rose garden stretches out before us, soggy and forlorn as ever. I hate it here. Every brick in the pathway jeers at me, every rose a personal insult. The sooner I can return to the warmth of our home and her lap, the better. 

Lambda leads me inside the mansion and I follow her upstairs.

* * *

Shannon examined the bottle of rat poison in her hand briefly before opening it, her eyes catching on the myriad warnings on the label. _Strychnine, huh?_ She could recall half a dozen murder mysteries off the top of her head where it wasused as a weapon. Truth be told, it felt uncomfortable handling something like that. The rats didn’t do anything wrong. It was fate that brought them to this island, after all. Plus, they were kinda cute? And here she was, about to deliver them to an untimely and probably painful demise. 

She motioned the sign of the cross with her free hand. _Please Lord,_ she prayed, _protect those adorable little guys from what I’m about to do._ She unscrewed the bottle, shook some pellets into her hand, and scattered them under the bed. 

“I don’t know why you go straight for the man upstairs when I’m right here and perfectly capable,” a swarm of golden butterflies materialized at Shannon’s side and took on the familiar form of the Endless Witch.

“You’d do that?” Shannon gasped. 

“But of course!” Beatrice assured her haughtily. “We in Marriage Sorciere take the lives of rodents and other woodland creatures very seriously. I shall speak to Gaap when next I see her.”

“Shannon? Shannon!” Natsuhi’s voice echoed from out in the hallway. “Have you seen Kanon? I asked him to clean up the gardening equipment an hour ago and-” She stopped as she turned the corner into the bedroom. “Oh, Beatrice! Um,” she squeezed her eyes shut and massaged the bridge of her nose. “The deal with Sonozaki! Were you able to-”

“Don’t you worry,” Beatrice assured her, “That scoundrel backed off at the sight of my wand. Small-time scoundrels like him piss their pants at the sight of my golden magic.” a beat. “Perhaps that wasn’t the best phrasing, in retrospect.”

“Hm?” Natsuhi opened her eyes. “Oh, thank you. Shannon, if you see Kanon, tell him to clean up the garden. And don’t leave the strychnine out where the family will find it! I don’t have it in me to listen to Eva crack jokes all night about father being poisoned.

“Of course, ma’am!” Shannon bowed.

* * *

“Stop.” I can already tell Lambda’s up to something.

“What’s up, babe?” Lambda cocked her head playfully.

“This is unexpected.” I’m trying to put the pieces together in my head. “I understand what’s happening when Shannon talks to Beatrice. It’s just her overactive imagination, or an attempt to fill in the gaps of something she doesn’t want the readers to see. And I understand that Natsuhi also has a habit of doing that. Speaking with Kinzo after he’s dead and all.”

“Right, that’s how it worked in Beato and Featherine’s stories,” Lambda agreed.

“It’s strange for them to be sharing a daydream.” 

“Remember Bern, this is a forgery that gets it wrong,” Lambda wags her finger, “the rules aren’t necessarily the same as in the other games. It’s a ‘wrong answers only’ kinda deal.”

My eyes narrow. “I’d like to confirm what the rules of this game are.”

I knew she was up to something. I bet there’s going to be a Knox rule violation, or it might even be legitimately unsolvable. I hope for her sake she’s learned her lesson about logic errors.

“Sorry babe,” Lambda taunts, “you said it yourself. Half the fun from my perspective is watching you flounder when you don’t understand what’s happening. And you’re really cute when you’re frustrated. I’ll say this though:this forgery doesn’t use any tricks not present in Beato’s works. I’ll also say with Certainty that knowing that won’t make it any less confusing.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“Sure thing! Next up is the first twilight.” 

“Already?” I ask. That was fast. Usually there was more preamble. 

“Yeah. This whole forgery was posted in one long-” she caught herself. “You know, I’m going to save that part for last. All you need to know for now is that it’s a pretty short one.”

Lambdadelta manipulates the fragment in her hand, and the world around us runs and swirls as if it were a watercolor left out in the rain. The guest bedroom melts away and the parlor pours in to take its place.

* * *

Following the sounds of his family’s screaming, Battler bolted through the mansion in a panic, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He caught himself on the doorway to the parlor and narrowly avoided crashing into the gathered crowd. The sight was ghastly. Shannon, Kanon, Genji, Gohda, and Kumasawa were dead. Their bodies lay covered in blood and lifeless as the furniture they’d been draped across, their faces each blasted away on one side.

“So that’s why breakfast wasn’t ready!” Natsuhi moaned, rubbing her temples. “The family conference is ruined!”

Nanjo examined the corpses dutifully. “I’m sorry to say, but I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”

“Who could’ve done something like this?! It’s inhuman!” Battler cried.

“I don’t know, but none of us have alibis,” Kyrie observed, warily.

“You don’t think one of us could’ve done something like this, do you?” Rosa asked, aghast. 

“Is everyone accounted for?” Jessica shuddered, “What if more people have been killed already and we don’t know it yet?” 

“Everyone’s here except dad, who’s still up in his damn study,” Rudolf ran his hand through his hair. He groaned. “We should probably go check on him.”

“I- I’ll take care of that,” Natsuhi stammered. “I have a key to his study.”

“I’ll go with you,” Eva insisted, “After all, none of us should be alone.”

“While you do that, I’ll break the servants’ master keys,” Kyrie offered. “We don’t want anyone getting anywhere they shouldn’t.”

“Hang on, let’s wait until we lock this place up. We don’t want anyone getting in there until the police come," Rudolf suggested.

The family went around and fastened the locks on the windows and doors, before slipping out and locking the final door behind them.

Natsuhi climbed up to the study, Eva close behind her. One of Kinzo’s envelopes was taped to the door. Eva snatched the letter and broke the seal. 

“It just says ‘boiler room,’” Eva read, perplexed.

They trekked back downstairs, only to find a horrible stench coming from their destination. Inside, the feet of a charred corpse were sticking out of the boiler, the rest engulfed in flames. 

“Eugh, this is disgusting,” Natsuhi moaned.

“There’s no mistaking it, that’s definitely father,” Eva commented, “You can tell by the toes.”

“Six sacrifices...” Natsuhi muttered, under her breath.

* * *

“Hmm,” I’m consumed in thought, my tail swaying back and forth. 

“What’s going on in that adorable little head of yours, Bern?” Lambda prods.

“Shannon and Kanon both left corpses?” I inquire, “that shouldn’t be possible. They’re both the same person. Is one of them hidden behind a couch or something?”

“You think Beato misplaced Kanon’s body like she does with her car keys?” Lambda giggles.

“Well, it’s obvious that something strange is happening here.” I roll my eyes.

“Got any blue truths you wanna share?”

“Not yet,” I decline, “but I suspect at least one of those corpses will go missing like usual before long.”

“An interesting theory,” Lambda appraises.

“Whatever.” I dismiss her comment with a wave of my hand. “I’d like to ask about the keys.”

“Sure,” Lambda rubs her hands together. “Like in the game you prepared for Battler, we’re ignoring the existence of non-master keys. Each servant has one master key, and Kyrie just made them all unusable. Also, the only way to lock or unlock a door without a master key is to use the latch on the inside of the door.”

“Next, the bodies. Are they really dead?”

“Sorry, Bern, one red truth is all I’m feeling right now,” Lambda shakes her head.

“Continue.” I can feel something so stupid it’s insulting in store for me. I start considering how I’m going to torment Lambda for this slight as the world spins back into motion.

* * *

After the bodies were discovered, the survivors held a meeting, the only way the Ushiromiyas knew how: senseless arguing and the release of pent-up grudges. They decided to split up and cool their heads. Gradually, they filtered back into the dining room. Everyone that is, except...

Battler clattered down the stairs and threw open the door in a cold sweat. “Has anyone seen dad or Kyrie?” 

Jessica bit her lip. “The last time anyone saw them was before we split up.”

The survivors made their way to the room the missing pair had been staying in. 

Battler frantically tried the doorknob. “It’s locked!” He pounded on the door, desperate to reach their ears, but no reply came from within. “Daaaad! Kyrieeee!!”

“We’ll have to break it down,” George suggested.

George and Battler slammed their weight into the door again and again, and eventually smashed it open. Inside, the remains of Rudolf and Kyrie were hung upside-down from the ceiling, a pool of blood congealing in the carpet.

“My Isfahan!” Natsuhi cried, “Ouhhh, and with the servants gone, we won’t be able to get it to a cleaners until the storm passes!”

Nanjo examined them. “I’m sorry, but it seems we’re too late. They’re already dead.”

“Search the room! It’s possible they’re still hiding inside,” Eva commanded.

“We checked everywhere. There’s no way the culprit could be hiding in the room,” Jessica reported, “and the windows are locked from the inside!”

Battler fought back his tears. “It’s really a closed room.”

“We should avoid disturbing the scene more,” Eva remarked, “I’ll go get some packing tape so we can make a seal.”

“Hold your horses, honey,” Hideyoshi warned, “I’ll go too. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“I’ll accompany you,” Krauss offered.

Eva, Hideyoshi, and Krauss made their way down to the storeroom. On the door, another envelope had been taped up. 

“The letter says: ‘I borrowed some junk from the parlor. Hope you don’t mind. -Gaap’” Krauss read aloud.

“Who could this Gaap be, I wonder,” Eva mused, “One of your oh-so-trustworthy business partners, perhaps?”

“I’ve never heard of them before in my life!” Krauss protested.

“I got the tape,” Hideyoshi reappeared from the storeroom.

“We should go check on the parlor before we go back,” Krauss advised.

The three of them trekked back to the parlor, tape in hand. 

“The doors are all still locked. We’ll have to break in again.” Krauss moaned.

Krauss and Hideyoshi bashed the door open. Inside, the corpses had vanished. In fact, it was hard to believe the gory display that morning could have adorned that very room at all.

“Where did the bodies go? It’s impossible to have snuck out through the doors or windows!” Eva demanded, exasperated.

“There’s nowhere they could be hidden in this room either,” Hideyoshi claimed, as he fished through the couch cushions.

“Let’s tape up the door we entered through and regroup with the others,” Eva suggested, “With this, we’ll know whether anyone else comes and tampers with the room.”

They returned to the group waiting in Kyrie and Rudolf’s room. 

“The room is sealed,” Jessica confirmed, once the door was lined with tape. “This is giving me the creeps, let’s go somewhere safe.”

* * *

“No traces of the corpses whatsoever?” I inquire, “Not even blood?”

“Not if Eva and Hideyoshi are to be believed,” Lambda shrugs.

“I’m not sure I do,” I begin, “although you did refuse to confirm their deaths earlier.” This is already reminding me far too much of End. No wonder she liked it so much. “Okay. I think I have some blue truths to give you.”

“Ooh!” She shakes her hands side to side. “Let’s hear them, kitten!”

“Don’t call me that,” I hiss. When my hair stops prickling, I continue. “First, nobody died in the first twilight. They got up and left somewhere between when the group left and when Krauss, Eva, and Hideyoshi wandered over. Krauss said the door was locked, but he’s an accomplice and lying. Otherwise, Krauss, Eva, and Hideyoshi are all accomplices and they’re lying about the bodies disappearing at all.”

She nods. “So how about the second twilight itself?”

I think for a moment, my tail swaying back and forth. “Well, there seem to be two obvious routes. Battler could be an accomplice and be lying about the door being locked. Or someone who wasn’t killed in the first twilight killed them and is still in the room, and whoever was doing the searching was lying.”

“Boy, I thought we already trashed all the master keys, but you sure seem to be using that kind of thinking like one.” Lambda comments. 

“You said it uses mechanics present in Beato’s games. Well, this was one she used a lot.”

“Sure was,” She agrees. “Well, let’s see, what else is in store.”

“You won’t deny any of my theories?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Come on babe, you know I like playing my cards close to my chest,” Lambdadelta winks.

* * *

Calling the atmosphere in the dining room “tense” would have been an understatement. The adult relatives glared at each other across the table in silence, having long since drained their sizeable reserves of insults and insinuations. The cousins buried themselves in Maria’s book of brain teasers, desperate for some respite from the chaos of the day.

“Oh, this one’s kinda fun,” Jessica began to read aloud. “A man was walking in the rain. He was in the middle of nowhere. He had nothing and nowhere to hide. He came home soaked to the bone, but not a single hair on his head was wet. Why is that?” 

The cousins discussed their theories, but Jessica denied them one after the other. 

“It looks like he’s been poisoned,” Nanjo postulated. “I’m sorry, but Battler is dead.”

“Poisoned?!” Natsuhi yelped, “but nobody’s eaten since dinner last night!”

A loud thunk rang from beside her as Krauss’ head slammed into the table, his body spasming as Battler’s had. Before she had time to react, Natsuhi lost consciousness herself and joined her husband in death. Rosa and Hideyoshi followed close behind. 

“All of them must’ve been poisoned, but when?” Nanjo scratched his head. “We all ate the same food last night.”

“There’s nothing in the room that could’ve poisoned them either,” Jessica claimed.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Eva cried. “None of this makes any sense!”


	2. Solipsism of the Golden Witch - Answers

“I've done it before.” A grin sneaks up on me before I realize it’s there. “I think you’ve just made me sit through End a second time. Let’s start with the first twilight.  At least one of the five in the parlor wasn’t dead and Nanjo covered for them. Then, they snuck out once the rest of the family locked the parlor up. Later, Krauss and possibly also Eva and Hideyoshi made it seem like the corpses had inexplicably disappeared. ”

There was a pause as I waited for her to respond, but she just stood there with a smug look on her face.

“For the second twilight,” I continued, “ A survivor from the first twilight must’ve killed Rudolf and Kyrie and then hid, or else Battler lied about the door being locked. ”

“And for the fourth through eighth twilights?” Lambda prompted.

“It’s obvious that the rat poison Shannon was spreading during the preamble was the murder weapon,” I explain, “though I’m not sure when it could have been administered.  Maybe it was in something they drank? ”

“You got a big ole brain in that cute little head of yours, Bern,” Lambda commended. “You’re dead wrong though.  The six people killed in the first twilight really are dead! ”

My eyes widen, but I realize her game before long. “ So they died by the end of the tale, then. They could’ve been alive long enough to carry out the actions I specified previously. ”

“No dice!  They died this morning before the rest of the family woke up! ” She beams. “But don’t worry, you got one thing right:  there were no corpses in the parlor at the time of the second twilight! ”

“I think I see what you’re doing and I’m going to wipe that smile off your face if I’m right,” I scowl. “ The only corpse in this game is Kinzo’s. All the other deaths are the type where someone stops using a persona and considers it dead, like Beato was doing with Shannon and Kanon, ” I groan.

“Bingo!” Lambda cheers, “Hey! Hey Bern! How many people are on this island? Like actual human bodies?”

I examine the squirming arm in my possession and tenderly grasp its hand in mine before whipping the stump at the other end across the back of Lambda’s head. Her cap flies off in an arc, gummy worms and cotton candy scattering everywhere. 

“That konpeito rolling around in your head you call a brain must be smooth as a marble by now if you think that’s an entertaining game! What the hell is wrong with you?!” I demand.

“No! No, wait, it gets better!” Lambda protests. “There’s more to it I haven’t told you about!”

I cease my assault and sling the arm over my shoulder. “Fine. But if it’s more boring nonsense, I’m going to strangle you using this as a garrote.”

“Hmm,” Lambda rubs her chin for a moment, lost in thought. “Nah. I wouldn’t be able to see your beautiful face then. Anyway, the fun part is where I found this forgery. Now, I know you don’t have a drop of love in your silly little heart, Bern, but you definitely understand spite, right?”

“Of course,” I shift the weight of the arm impatiently. 

“This tale is a monument to spite,” Lambda wags her finger knowingly. “After Dawn was posted online, the Witch Hunters went nuts. Now, there were always hardliners who hated the very concept of forgeries, even remarkable ones like Featherine’s. But Dawn pissed  _ everybody _ off, even her diehard fans. See, some people had half-jokingly suggested that Shannon and Kanon were the same person before, cuz, y’know, gender is a funny thing, and there’s tons of people who get a kick out of messing with it in the media they like. But like, it wasn’t really taken seriously by the wider community. Most Witch Hunters thought of it as an off-color joke and nothing else. It’s the mid 90s after all, right? Not exactly a time when people were very accepting of that stuff. So when Dawn came along and the outside world got a peek at the truth of our precious Miss Yasuda, the mainstream fanbase lost their minds.”

“...And this forgery is a result of that?” I’m starting to see why Lambda finds these interesting, and I hate it.

“Yup yup!” Lambda beams, “Some dimwit was so pissed about the suggestion to take Yasu’s gender struggles seriously that he wrote up an entire forgery mocking the idea and the game mechanics behind it. It’s nothing but a petulant screed by some moron who couldn’t handle having to actually consider that gender might be more complicated than he’d been taught.”

“That’s incredibly petty,” I commend. I whack Lambda over the head with her arm again. “I think that makes us even. Are there any other fascinating trainwrecks like that one out there?”

“Oh you have no idea. There’s thousands.” She beams. 

Despite myself, I’m excited. My tail starts twitching again in anticipation. 

Glad to see I’ve converted you, Bern,” Lambda grins, “Now help me sew myself back up already!”

* * *

She frowned. The dialogue was going to need a lot of work. Still, the strychnine made for a shocking finale. It was just a matter of setting it up in the story without immediately giving it away. She fished her pad of paper and pen out of her apron pocket and furiously packed some more notes in the margins of the already crowded page. Maybe if she introduced a new demon... some kind of snake maybe? A lamia? But then how would she wear the Angel Mort skirt? She absentmindedly chewed on the end of her pen as she thought. Might have to call a meeting of Mariage Sorciere to iron out the details on that one. 

“Time to go home,” she mumbled as she dutifully returned her writing utensils to their rightful place in her apron. She checked the grandfather clock to her side. 19:00. She still had to finish baiting the rest of the guestrooms and cleaning the VIP suite,  _ buuuuut  _ the family probably wouldn’t be back from Delsneyland until the afternoon anyway. If she finished this room and took the rest of the night off, there’d prooobably be enough time to finish everything before madame Natsuhi got on the warpath. 

Satisfied, Sayo made her way back to the servants’ quarters and put a teakettle on the stove. As she took a seat at the table nearby, she half expected Gohda to look up from his crossword puzzle and send her on some errand to the other side of the mansion, but of course, she was all alone on the island. She procured her notepad once again and reread the last couple pages of notes, turning their contents around in her head as she waited for the water to boil. She sighed contentedly. An evening without disturbance wasn’t something that came along often and she intended to make the most of it. Maybe if she was lucky, she’d even be able to bottle up this tale by bedtime. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to Hypocriticaldadaist for beta reading this tale for me!


	3. Horror of the Wingless Eagle - Shell Game

I glance out the window of the dining room into the gloom of Beato’s game board. The light from the streetlamps in the garden is blurred and refracted through the sheets of rain pounding the pane. 

“Let’s go sew this back on,” I suggest, gesturing with the severed arm in my hand. I’m proposing it like a favor to Lambda, but in truth every hair on my body is screaming at me to leave this place. All the same, I’m rooted to this spot until someone else voices their own intention to go, unable to let my own pride get bruised.

Lambda walks over and wraps her remaining arm around my shoulders. She leans over and kisses my temple. “Feeling okay, babe?”

“Mm,” I murmur. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Okaaaay,” she acquiesces. 

She fidgets with the fragment floating in her hand and the world melts and runs and washes itself away below us. In its place, the walls of Lambda’s bedroom assemble, the familiar piles of neglected popcorn tubs and candy wrappers take their places in the corners, and we land on her bed with a  _ whumph _ . The bed is still warm from when we left it, and her spot still carries her sickeningly sweet scent. I allow myself to relax a bit and lie back on a pile of pillows. 

“Where did we put the sewing supplies again..?” Lambda starts feeling around under the covers. I try to ignore the possibility that there’s a pile of needles lurking under there like a landmine. “Wait, we stuck everything in Stefan Lucassen last time.” 

She gets up and walks over to the clump of stuffed animals crammed into her open wardrobe and tosses fistfuls of lions and bears and rabbits onto the bed next to me. Eventually, she pulls out a stuffed duck wearing a sailor hat riddled with pins and needles. 

“Stefaaaaan~” Lambda crows. She moves as if to hug him, but seems to think better of it. “Hey Bern, catch!”

This sounds like an awful idea. I dodge out of the way and let Stefan Lucassen crash into the mountain of pillows near my head. “What about the thread?”

“It’s uh,” Lambda gestures up and down with her good arm. “Zipper.” 

I turn Stefan Lucassen over and unzip his sternum. A few spools of thread and sewing tools fall out onto the bed, along with some crocheted viscera. Lambda plops herself down beside me and wiggles her shoulder stump expectantly. 

“So.” I thread a needle plucked from Stefan Lucassen’s neck. “What’s next?”

“Next?” Lambda cocks her head.

“Forgeries.” 

“Hmm,” she rubs her chin thoughtfully. That konpeito in her head must be working furiously. Eventually, she slaps her thigh in realization and a mischievous grin spreads across her face, her dimples receding into her cheeks.

I try to remember one of their names. “...Nepeta.”

“Uh, okay.” she summons a cloud of fragments around her hand and starts examining them. “Nepeta, Nepeta... ouch!”

“So people make forgeries with their own colors?” I inquire.

“Yeah, there’s tons of em,” Lambda explains as she keeps searching through the fragments, “Ouch. There’s some popular ones that a bunch of people use, like your purple declarations, or the orange one that’s always a lie unless the culprit says it, but other than that people just go wild. Ow. Jeez, I know there has to be a nepeta one somewhere... oh. Oh here we go.” she giggles to herself.

“What’s it used for?” 

“It’s for...” She starts, but catches herself. “Wait, you know what? Let’s make that part of the game. See if you can guess what the gimmick is for this color by the time we’re done. Owowow!”

“Hold still,” I demand.

“It huurrts though, babe, I can’t help it!” She protests.

“It would hurt less if you weren’t squirming around,” I continue my stitching unperturbed. “Perhaps you should have thought of this before deciding to be a talking piñata.”

“Hmph,” She pouts. Her mood doesn’t last long. “Well, this forgery ought to be pretty good payback at any rate.”

“If you say so. It’ll have to be pretty stupid to top that last one.” 

“I do say so,” Lambda huffs. “Here, let’s get started.” 

Once again, the comfort of Lambdadelta’s bed fell away and the labyrinthine halls of the Ushiromiya mansion closed in around us.

* * *

Natsuhi pinched the bridge of her nose to try and ward off the headache creeping up on her. She gazed wistfully out the window of her bedroom at the gathering grey clouds. Figures. Sudden changes in weather like that always did her in. If she tracked down Gohda, he’d probably have a special tea or something that could take the edge off. She gingerly opened her wardrobe, selected a blouse and maxi skirt, and changed out of her nightgown, taking care not to move her aching head too suddenly. 

Genji stopped her on the way to the kitchen. “ Ma’am, we received a letter for you. It appears to be from Miss Jessica’s school. ”

Natsuhi’s blood ran cold. “What did it say? She didn’t get suspended again, did she?”

He reached into his uniform and pulled out an envelope. “We felt it would be best if you read it yourself.”

She accepted the letter and tore it open as neatly as she could manage, though the glue was pretty strong and it just turned into an awkward mess of torn edges by the time she was finished. A folded piece of paper lay inside, like a trapdoor spider waiting to pounce. She unfurled it and tried her best to position the page at a distance she could read it. The header read:

**Sacred Bloody Viscera of the Body of Christ Hung Upon the Cross Academy**

**Summer report card 1986**

**Ushiromiya Jessica, Year 3**

“Ma’am, would you like to sit down?” Genji suggested. 

“N-No, I’m...” She trailed off as she read further down the document. 

Her heart sank with every line. Literature: mediocre. Social studies: bad. Mathematics: worse. What was that girl doing all day? What was going to happen to her when entrance exams came around if she couldn’t start taking school seriously? When she thought things couldn’t get any worse, she realized  there were two pages. The second was a letter . 

Ushiromiya-san,

I regret to inform you that your daughter Jessica has scored well below average this term, and we have concerns that this is indicative of a pattern.  As her homeroom teacher, I would like to organize a meeting in order to discuss strategies for getting her back on the right track during her final year at our school . I believe that if we work together to improve both her school and home lives, she can reach her full potential

Hoshida Tomo

Sacred Bloody Viscera of the Body of Christ Hung Upon the Cross Academy

12-67-6551x9604

All of Natsuhi’s worst fears had been realized. A parent-teacher conference, this far into her child’s academic career?! Her face grew flushed in shame, and the pounding of her headache worsened. Letter in hand, she stormed over to Jessica’s room. The astringent music from Jessica’s stereo carried faintly into the hallway. 

She knocked on the door. “Jessica?” 

No response. She knocked again, harder this time. “Jessica, we need to talk!”

The music inside switched off, and Jessica opened her door. Her gaze was glued to the ground and she looked flushed. “Oh, uh, hi mom.”

“Jessica, I-” Natsuhi stopped herself. The tip of a maid’s boot caught her eye, dangling off the bed and nearly hidden by the doorway. “Excuse me, I would like to speak to Jessica privately. And you must have something better to do!”

“Oh! Sorry ma’am,” Shannon’s voice carried from inside. The sound of rustling fabric followed, and before long she emerged and excused herself with a frantic bow.

“Oh.” Jessica said quietly. 

“It’s not good.”

“Yeah, probably.” 

“Jessica,” Natsuhi urged, “how many times do we have to have this conversation? Take school more seriously! The rest of your life is at stake! And- and for someone of your status to be shirking responsibility is- it’s shameful.”

“Mm,” she mumbles. She appears to retreat back into herself, as if she were trying to disappear. 

“I’m- I’m very disappointed in you, I know you can do better,” Natsuhi continued, “I don’t understand why you won’t apply yourself.”

Jessica shrugged. 

Talking to her was like drawing blood from a stone.

* * *

“I thought games were supposed to be fun,” I complain, “this one seems excruciatingly banal.”

“It’s a slow burn, Bern,” Lambda assures me. 

“I’m not sure what to make of the new color yet.” I think to myself for a moment. “It seems like it’s being used to outline important details, sort of like my purple declarations. And likewise, it’s something even pieces are able to wield.”

“I expect nothing less from you, babe,” She nods. 

I wait to see if she intends to explain further, but it appears otherwise. I sigh and resume stitching. “Also, Jessica and Shannon were...”

“Yup.”

“And Natsuhi completely missed that,” I continue.

“She’s kind of a space cadet,” Lambda admits. 

“Seems to be the case,” I concur. “Let’s keep going.”

“Okaaaay,” she fiddles with the fragment as I continue sewing. “Yowch! I’m gonna skip around a bit cuz there’s a lot of preamble to this one.”

* * *

“Frantic” was the only way to describe the day of the family conference. Natsuhi had drilled the servants on how to evade questions about the late family head into the small hours of the night prior, and woke up early to supervise the day’s preparations. The only thing that had kept her on her feet was a constant stream of tea, and when that ran out, she found herself plastered on her bed, too exhausted to move. It was shameful, abandoning her husband like that, but... there was only so much a woman could do in a day.

The next morning, Natsuhi awoke feeling unusually rested. The rain brushed gently against her window, and the panes rattled softly in the wind. Maybe if they were lucky, the storm would pass by the evening and the family could leave, and they could keep up the charade of Kinzo’s undeath for a little longer unhindered. Maybe. 

In reality, she knew she had a grueling trial ahead of her, rallying the servants for a second day and holding off the vultures circling the estate. Ugh. What time was it anyway? She was used to being woken up by a servant calling her to breakfast, but if she was up before hearing from any of them, it must’ve been pretty early. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. 

...

...

9:24?!

Natsuhi leapt out of bed and got dressed and made up as fast as she could.  If something had gone wrong with breakfast, she was going to have a lot of smoothing-over to do . 

As she finished putting herself together, a knock came at the door. “Dear? Something, uh, something’s happened.”

Natsuhi felt the first twinge of a headache creeping up on her. “Is it about father?”

“No, it’s... I think you’d better just come see,” Krauss urged. 

Natsuhi followed her husband through the halls, a feeling of dread trailing like an extra footstep in the dark. She couldn’t begin to guess what had happened, but every time she spoke or looked towards him, he just focused his gaze forward, lips tight, eyes uncertain. 

At long last they arrived at the third floor VIP room. A crowd had gathered around the entrance, bickering loudly. Off to the side, Battler leaned against a wall and mumbled incoherently, occasionally pausing to retch. George took his place next to him, taking off his glasses to wipe away his tears.  A strange symbol was plastered all over the walls in something like blood. It’d probably take ages to get out.

“What do you mean it was locked?” Eva demanded. Her face was twisted into the picture of anguish, eyes red and tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“I mean it was locked,” Kyrie explained flatly. “Gohda and Rudolf had to kick in the door to get inside.”

“Don’t remind me,” Rudolf groaned. He rubbed his shoulder. “I got the bruise to prove it, too.”

“But the key was-” Eva began.

“On the coffee table in there, yes,” Kyrie confirmed. 

Inside, Hideyoshi, Shannon, Genji, Rosa, and Jessica sat around the coffee table- wait, that wasn’t quite right. The five people in the VIP room had had their heads severed and... placed atop someone else’s shoulders? Hideyoshi’s head was placed on Rosa’s shoulders, and Rosa’s on Hideyoshi’s, Shannon’s head was placed on Kanon’s body, and... and... oh god, Jessica’s head had been swapped with Genji’s! Natsuhi fell to her knees and sobbed.

Krauss knelt beside her and rested his hand on her back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t... know how to tell you.”

Natsuhi shakily rose to her feet and staggered into the room to inspect what remained of her daughter.  Blood had soaked into her clothes, but it was anyone’s guess if it was hers or Genji’s. Her severed head cast a horrific expression, eyes open and unmoving, utterly devoid of the exuberance she’d had just the previous night. The others appeared to be in much the same condition. Natsuhi’s stomach churned and she was overcome with the urge to look away.

Nanjo arrived shortly thereafter. He dutifully examined the bodies, but he came to the same conclusion anyone would:  six people had died that morning .

Eva and Kyrie argued further, but Natsuhi found herself tuning out. Eventually, they agreed to lock up the door and retreat to separate guestrooms.

“What kind of person could have done something like this?!” Battler moaned, in between retches.

“I don’t know, but we’d best stay on our toes,” Kyrie warned. “You never know, they might strike again.”

* * *

She thinks for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah sure- Ouch!”

I jab her shoulder with my needle. “I refuse.”

“So what about the green text?” she prods.

“It still seems similar to a purple declaration. Aside from that, it appears it’s being influenced by Natsuhi’s narration somehow.” I continue sewing for a moment in silence. “You really like tormenting Natsuhi, huh?”

“I mean, she just takes herself so seriously sometimes!” Lambda protests, “And she’s rude to the servants! And she chucked a baby off a cliff! She deserves a little ribbing now and then, don’t you think?” 

“I suppose,” I concede. “I imagine the second twilight is soon?”

“You bet!” Lambda confirms. She starts fiddling with the fragment in her hand. “I’m gonna skip forward a bit though, there’s a lot of uh, people explaining Rosa’s death to Maria in a condescending way, Battler losing his mind, complicated metaphors about chess, uhhhh, y’know, drama.”

* * *

“The family head is into guns, right?” Kyrie asked, out of the blue. “If the killer is still out there, we should think about arming ourselves.”

The Ushiromiyas stared back at her blankly. The parlor had been smothered in a tense silence ever since Eva and George stormed out. 

“Y-yeah,” Krauss spoke up. “They’re upstairs in, uh, well, I can just show you.”

“Good,” Kyrie affirmed. “Rudolf, Natsuhi, can you stay here with the kids?”

“Yeah, sure,” Rudolf agreed.

“...Huh?” Natsuhi pinched the bridge of her nose. Another headache, no doubt. “Oh. Yes, that’s fine.”

“Who’s got the master keys?” Rudolf asked.

“I still have mine,” Kumasawa said.

“I do as well, sir,” Gohda nodded his head.

“We got two from... well, from the VIP room,” Kyrie held up two fingers. “Was that all of them?”

“Shannon probably had one, but I doubt she’s getting much use out of it,” Rudolf chuckled morbidly. That man was always terrible at reading the room. “You two should take one with you while you’re out.”

“Yeah,” Kyrie concurred. “We should make sure the rest are in one place where we can keep an eye on them too.”

“Why?” Battler wondered. “You don’t think one of the family could be an accomplice or something, do you?”

“Well,” Kyrie mused, “You never know.” she glanced around at the occupants of the room.

Kyrie took one of the spare master keys and left the room with Krauss. The lock clicked dutifully as she secured the door behind her. The uncomfortable tension of family drama and death in the parlor was quickly replaced with the frankly exhilarating tension of mortal danger. She was in her element. 

“It’s this way,” Krauss led her down the hallway. 

Their footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as they made their way through the winding passageways to the awful gaudy foyer. 

“How have things been with Battler?” Krauss broke their silence.

“I think he still resents us a bit,” Kyrie sighed. So much for her escape from family politics. “But I’m glad he and Rudolf are talking again at least. And it seems like Ange likes having him around.”

“That’s good,” Krauss commented absently. They climbed the stairs up to the third floor. The Golden Witch gazed down at them knowingly from her portrait on the wall. Krauss motioned to a narrow hallway near Kinzo’s suite. “Through here.”

“Should we try to get Kinzo down into the parlor with everyone else?” Kyrie suggested.

Krauss thought for a while. “Well, there’s only two keys to his study. Natsuhi has one downstairs with the family, and the other is locked in there with him.”

The two of them rounded a corner and Krauss motioned to a closet. Kyrie unlocked the door and felt around inside for a lightswitch. The darkness receded and revealed dozens of stacked boxes. Books, astrolabes, rolled up posters, and paintings stuck out of the top layer.

“You keep watch, I’ll dig them up,” Krauss offered.

A few minutes later, Krauss emerged with a cluster of sawn-off rifles under his arm. “Dad’s a big fan of westerns, I think one of these was in a John Wayne movie or something.”

“Here, I can take some,” Kyrie accepted a pair of guns. “Should we go drop one off with Eva too?”

“Oh, good thinking,” Krauss realized, “Uh, I’ll go grab another.”

They made their way back through the halls to the guestroom Eva and George had holed up in, rifles under their arms.  A strange, occult-looking diagram had been drawn in something that looked like blood on the door.

Kyrie knocked on the door. “Excuse me? Eva?

No answer. Kyrie exchanged a Look with Krauss. She pounded on the door again with a similar result. She turned her master key in the lock and opened the door, only for the chain to catch a few centimeters from the frame. Her field of view was limited, and she couldn’t see anything strange.

“Eva? George?” Kyrie called again. The silence in response was deafening. Adrenaline started flooding her veins. “Do you have bolt cutters or anything we could use?”

Krauss thought for a moment. “There’s probably something in the servants’ storage room?”

“Fine,” Kyrie surmised. She closed the door again and locked it. “Let’s regroup with the others, we can try getting Kumasawa or Gohda to help look.”

* * *

Natsuhi’s head throbbed as she leaned against the hallway wall. The room where Eva and George had been staying was silent as a crypt, no matter how much the others knocked or banged or shouted. When she woke up she had no idea she’d be standing around scared to death in her own house, pointing a gun at any errant creak. 

She heard a scuffling from around the bend and wheeled around in a flash, raising her rifle to her shoulder. 

“EEEEK!” Kumasawa held up her hands as she rounded the corner. 

Krauss followed close behind, rifle and bolt cutters in hand. His eyes widened. “Whoa whoa whoa, it’s just us.”

Natsuhi unlocked the door and pulled it open. The chain caught with a jolt. 

“Here, I’ll get that,” Krauss offered.

“Never miss a chance to show off for your wife, huh aniki,” Rudolf quipped.

“Of course,” Krauss grunted with grim determination. The bolt cutters sliced through the chain like a hot knife through butter. He cautiously swung the door open the rest of the way and peered inside. The color drained from his face.

Natsuhi peered in after him. The sight inside was ghastly.  On one of the beds, George and Eva were seated back to back, their intestines coiled many times around them, their faces settled into a ghastly slack-jawed, wide-eyed expression. In the top of each of their heads, an ornate spike that wouldn’t be out of place in the Family Head’s collection of occult artifacts had been buried. The whole bedspread had been stained red with their blood. Natsuhi turned away. A wave of nausea crashed over her and she held her free hand to her mouth. 

Kyrie walked over to the window and examined the latch. “It’s locked. Something’s not right here. How were these two killed? The chain was set when we arrived.”

“Does it really matter?” Battler bawled, “god, I can’t believe this..!”

“It does,” Kyrie stated, flatly. “ Someone’s playing mind games with us. The murders this morning were the same thing, right? The crime seems impossible.”

“Whoever it is, they seem incredibly determined to convince us that a witch did it,” Rudolf remarked. 

Kyrie nodded. “Most likely.  But if things continue like this, we may have to consider the possibility that we’re dealing with something not entirely human. ”

* * *

I scoot a bit away from Lambda on the bed to admire my handiwork. I had tried embroidering a small black cat near the seam, but it looked a bit forlorn from this angle. Whatever. I stick the needle deep into Stefan Lucassen’s neck. “Okay. I think your arm should be fine.”

Lambda places her other hand on the shoulder, rotates her arm around, and wiggles her fingers. A bright smile flashes across her face and she leaps over to hug me. “You always do a great job fixing me up, kitten!” She kisses me on the cheek. 

“I told you not to call me that,” I push her away gently, and she acquiesces. 

“Fiiiiine,” She pouts. In a flash, her mood seems to improve. “So hey! What’s going on with that second twilight, huh?”

“It reminds me a lot of the one from  _ Legend, _ if I’m being honest,” I say. 

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it,” Lambda nodded. “There’s one major difference though:  the detective was present when the door was cut open! ”

I think to myself for a moment. “In that case, I’d like to clear some things up. First of all, who is the detective?”

She straightens up to her full height and puts her hands on her hips. “ Natsuhi. ”

“Strange choice,” I comment. “I was expecting it to be Kyrie.”

“Nah, Kyrie’s about as much of a detective as Harry Callahan. Totally different subgenre.” Lambda explains. “Like, she’s the protagonist of the Doom mod forgery.”

“The what?” I barely know what she’s talking about half the time. She gets lost in some strange parts of the Sea of Fragments. “Anyway, I have some theories.”

“Shoot.”

I collect my thoughts. “ The latch was already undone when the culprit entered the room. They then killed Eva and George, reset the chain, and hid. Alternatively, the culprit was waiting in the room when Eva and George entered. It’s also possible they used some other entrance, like the window or a secret passage. I suspect that Krauss and Kyrie are probably either culprits or accomplices, but I’m not sure how they could’ve entered and left the room locked up without a third person remaining inside.”

Lambda clears her throat and produces a wrapped-up hard candy from nowhere in particular. She unwinds the paper and reveals a pair of reading glasses, and slips them onto her face. She speaks in a dreary monotone. “ Knox’s 3rd: it is forbidden for hidden passages to EXIST. Knox’s 8th: it is forbidden for the case to be resolved with clues that are not PRESENTED. ” She takes the glasses off. “ That means no secret doors and nobody hiding out of sight. Also, nobody entered or left through the window! ”

I giggle a bit, despite myself. “You sound just like her.”

“Hey, when you GM as much as I do, you get pretty good at doing voices,” she winks. “Anyway, is that it? Are you stumped? Hopeless? Distraught?”

“No,” I contest, “I just need time to think.” I sigh. “And just to make sure, those two really are dead, right?”

“ They’re completely dead. There’s none of those identity games going on here either. ” She confirms. “So what about the green statements?”

“I’d like to see some from a different character before I make any further conjectures,” I muse, “I want to test my theory that it has something to do with the point of view character.”

“Hmmm,” Lambda makes a big show of thinking, “Yeah sure. Let’s go back to the preamble for a bit, I think I have something you’d appreciate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again to HypocriticalDadaist for playtesting!


	4. Horror of the Wingless Eagle - Guardsmen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought I was dead? It'll take more than "stressful life events" and "concerning political unrest" to sap the motivation of this thousand year old witch for long! Ahahahyahahaheheheh!

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against Shannon’s. Was this how it was supposed to feel? Was she doing it right? Shannon’s breath tickled her face, and her arms encircled her waist. She felt flushed, and butterflies flit about in her stomach. There was a pull as Shannon tried to lean back onto the bed, and she bent down to follow her. After a moment, she broke away. The two of them were breathing heavily, and... was- was she crying?

“Shannon, are you okay?” Jessica’s heart sank. Had she gone too far? God, she probably pressured her too much or something, and, well, weren’t Christians not supposed to do that kind of thing?

Shannon covered her face in her hands, and spoke in a vanishingly meek voice. “Uhm, it’s just- Oh god...”

There was a knock at the door.

“Jessica?”  It was Natsuhi’s voice . 

Jessica and Shannon froze. 

“Shit shit shit,” Jessica swore under her breath. She motioned her hand across her mouth as if it were a zipper.

Another knock. Natsuhi called again, a tinge of irritation in her voice. “Jessica,  we need to talk! ”

Jessica raced over to the door and tried in vain to flush the embarrassment from her face. Actually, she should probably turn off the stereo too, otherwise she’d get an earful about it being too loud or something. She dashed back and switched it off and opened the door. “Oh, uh, hi mom.”

“Jessica, I-” Natsuhi paused and her brow furrowed slightly.  She peered around the doorframe into the room. “Excuse me, I would like to speak to Jessica privately. And you must have something better to do!”

“Oh! Sorry ma’am,” Shannon’s voice wavered. She rose and scurried out of the room without saying anything further.

“Jessica, you know what I said about bothering the servants while they’re working,” Natsuhi scolded.

“She- she was on her break,” Jessica stammered, “We traded mixta- um. Sorry.”

Natsuhi sighed, looking irritated. “ Jessica, I got your report card in the mail. ”

“Oh.” Jessica mumbled. She’d been dreading this conversation for weeks. It felt like the walls were closing in. 

“ It’s not good .”

“Yeah, probably,” Jessica mumbled. 

“Jessica,” Natsuhi pressed on, “how many times do we have to have this conversation? Take school more seriously! The rest of your life is at stake! And- and for someone of your status to be shirking responsibility is- it’s shameful.”

“Mm.”

“I’m- I’m very disappointed in you, I know you can do better,” Natsuhi lamented, “I don’t understand why you won’t apply yourself.”

Jessica shrugged. How many times had this conversation played out? What was the point? Every couple weeks it was the same deal.  _ Why didn't you do that assignment? Why didn’t you study for that test? I dunno. What do you mean you don’t know?!  _ Endless torture through Endless repetition. Sometimes things just didn’t get done, and she couldn’t explain it.  _ It’s all useless. _

* * *

“So this is that scene from Jessica’s perspective,” I observe.

“Yup,” Lambda tears open a bag of caramel corn, and the kernels fly all over the bed. I try not to think about what it’s going to be like sleeping here tonight. 

“And the colored text is different this time.”

“Yeah.” She crams a fistful of popcorn into her mouth.

“So I was right about the point of view influencing how it’s used,” I prod, hoping for confirmation.

“If you say so, Bern,” she tosses a kernel into the air and leans back to catch it with her mouth. 

“You’re so morbid, Bern.” Lambda giggles. “And hey, I don’t think it’s fair to call Jessica dumb just cuz she sucks at school. There’s a lot of ways a human can be smart, y’know. Like that kid Satoko didn’t know the difference between cauliflower and broccoli, but was a genius at pranks and schemes.”

“You take that name out of your fucking mouth!” I curse. 

“Still sore after all this time, huh babe?” She teases. “Can’t be helped, I suppose.”

“You don’t know the difference either,” I remind her coldly. “Come on, tell me, which one’s green?”

“Wait, I got this,” Lambda puts her fist in front of her mouth and makes a big show of thinking. “Hmm, hmm, hmm...”

“If you get it wrong, there will be a punishment for you, of course.”

“Now it’s gonna be even harder for me to think, Bern!” She complains.

“Clock’s ticking.”

“Uhhhhmmm, it’s uh, it’s cauli-”

I jam my index finger into the tear in her cheek, and wiggle it around in her stuffing.

“AaAaAaAa stop thaaaaaat!”

* * *

Natsuhi slumped into a couch in the parlor and massaged her temple. This was too much. Too much! Rokkenjima -her home- was supposed to be a place of safety. She’d tried so hard to mold it from an isolating birdcage into somewhere she could call her own. And now- now this accursed island had all at once regressed back into the frightening, unfamiliar prison it was when she first moved in. 

Krauss took a seat next to her, and the cloud of cologne about his person followed soon after. He always used way too much of that stuff. She leaned up against him, and he slung an arm around her shoulders and grasped her hand in his.

After a moment, he broke the silence. “That new wallet I ordered came in the other day.”

“Oh,” The momentary air of romance vanished without a trace. Natsuhi tried her best to sound interested.“Is that so?”

Krauss pulled the wallet out of his coat pocket. It was made of jet black leather, with the Ushiromiya eagle embossed on the surface, set with gold leaf. The scent of fresh leather was barely noticeable above the cologne. The combined aromas toyed with Natsuhi’s headache in the worst way. 

“I like the minimalism,” Natsuhi offered. “It’s very-”

_ _

“In zero gravity, anything that’s not nailed down will float away if you so much as nudge it, so they needed a way to fasten everything down in a way that was easy to undo, and would still function in case of an electrical failure,” he explained, “so they settled on velcro!” He fastened and unfastened the wallet a few times to demonstrate, blissfully unaware of the torture he was subjecting his wife to.

“You got a one track mind, Aniki,” Rudolph interrupted. “Next you’re gonna be one of those nuts who’s always going on about how space tourism is the next big thing.”

Natsuhi shot a pleading look towards him. 

“Never underestimate the power of capitalism to drive scientific progress,” Krauss shot back. “I imagine the first commercial space flights will happen within a decade. The demand is there. Wouldn’t you want to be in on the ground level for something that momentous?”

“I’d just as soon be middle of the pack on something more tangible.” Rudolph smirked, “I don’t have the stomach for big gambles like that.”

“I suppose that’s why you’re in trouble with IP law, and I’m in trouble with land development,” Krauss chuckled grimly.

“Kumasawa,” Natsuhi called, desperate to derail this conversation once and for all, “can you bring us some tea?”

“I- I suppose, ma’am, but,” her voice wavered, “Is it wise to go wandering around with how things are right now?”

“I’ll go with you,” Krauss offered, “this morning’s coffee is starting to wear off.”

“I gotta stretch my legs a bit too,” Rudolph offered. 

The three of them cautiously ventured out into the hallway, the brothers with rifles cradled in their arms.

* * *

“Do you think someone should go check on them?” Natsuhi worried aloud, after some time had passed. 

“It’s just down the hall, if something happened, we’d hear it,” Kyrie assured her. “Let’s give it another few minutes before we start panicking.”

“If you say so,” Natushi conceded.

The sound of the kids’ show Maria had been watching carried from the other side of the room. She and Battler sat on the floor in front of the TV, Maria excitedly explaining the details of the plot, and Battler dutifully nodding along. With a pang of regret, she remembered how her own daughter used to try to talk about her interests in the same tone when she was that age. At the time she’d dismissed it as aimless rambling, and chided her for not focusing on her studies. But now... she blamed herself for not fostering a better relationship with Jessica while she was still alive. 

The door to the parlor burst open with enough force that it swung around and knocked into the wall behind it. Krauss and Rudolph stood in the doorway, Krauss out of breath and Rudolph looking uncharacteristically concerned. 

“Did- did Kuma- Kumasawa come in here?” Krauss panted. He bent forward and rested his hands on his knees. 

Natsuhi shot the others in the parlor a concerned look. “I... don’t think so.”

“Shit,” Rudolph cursed.

“What happened?” Kyrie interrogated.

“We- We-” Krauss was still out of breath.

“ She disappeared, ” Rudolph explained, “We each stood at one of the doors to the kitchen to keep watch while she was inside. After a while I guess Krauss got concerned it was taking too long and went in after her, and the room was empty. We tore the place upside down and couldn’t find any trace of her.”

“Why weren’t you in the room with her?” Natsuhi demanded.

“I figured it would get cramped,” Krauss shrugged. “Too many cooks in the kitchen and all.”

Natsuhi moaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Is there any other way to get into the kitchen?” Kyrie mused, “if you only guarded the two doors, but there’s a dumbwaiter or something in there, then someone might’ve snuck in while you had your backs turned.”

“No, the dumbwaiter is across the hall,” Natsuhi informed her, “and the only entrances are the door down the hall and the one on the far side of the kitchen.”

“ ...another locked room, ” Kyrie mumbled under her breath. “This is the third time something like this has happened. Whoever’s responsible desperately wants to get a point across.”

“Which would be?” Krauss offered.

Kyrie’s eyes narrowed. “ That they don’t play by the same rules we do. And that they can get to us no matter what. ”

“Kihihihihihihiii,” Maria chortled, suddenly attentive. “Are you all really this blind?  This is all part of Beatrice’s resurrection ritual. Of course she doesn’t play by the same rules as humans, she’s a witch!  Beatrice holds sway over all seventy-two demons of hell, from Aamon to Zepar, and can summon them at her pleasure.  This ‘locked room’ could easily have been achieved with the aid of Gaap, who can transport people and objects wherever she wants, whenever she wants.”

“What’s next, is a mysterious voice gonna offer us red and blue toilet paper next time we run out of paper when we take a shit?” Battler guffawed. “There’s no way something fantastical like a witch is doing this. As long as it’s possible to imagine a human committing these crimes, that’s what we have to go with.”

“Hihihi,” Maria cackled, “sure, if you can think of how a human could have spirited autie Kumasawa out of the kitchen, or the locked rooms upstairs, please explain. But you can’t!  Because Beatrice ‘exists!’ ”

* * *

“Iiiit’s that time again, Bern~” Lambda shoots some finger guns my way. “What happened to dear old auntie Kumasawa?”

“It’s hard to sew when you’re talking,” I reply. I try to concentrate on stitching up the hole in her face. 

“Fiiine.” She forms her hand into a duck bill shape, with her fingers and thumb pressed together. “How’s this?” she opens and closes her palm, and her voice appears to emanate from her hand instead of her mouth.

“Disturbing,” I commend.

“Aww thanks,” she blushes. “So anyway, Kumasawa.”

“Natsuhi was nowhere near the kitchen when it happened, so all I have to go off of are Rudolph and Krauss’ account.” I recollect. “Is there a line of sight between the two doors to the kitchen?”

“ Nope, ” Lambda explains, “ Someone standing at one door would have no idea what the other person was doing. ”

“Fine.” I poke the sewing needle through her cheek and she winces and squirms in place a bit. “ One of the brothers must be an accomplice. They let Yasuda in to do something to Kumasawa, or else let Kumasawa sneak out so she could help with something else later. I had already been suspecting Krauss, since he was also there when they stumbled on the second twilight, so I assume he was the one to do it. ”

“I see, I see,” Lambda motioned her hand up and down, as if to nod. “Well, it’s a solid theory. Interesting you’d pick Krauss though. Kyrie was at the second twilight too, so maybe she and Rudolph are both accomplices, right?

“I had considered it,” I concede, “but now I’m going to suspect you brought it up in order to throw me off.”

“You really think I’d do something like that, Bern?” Lambda cocks her hand to the side. “Tell you convincing-sounding lies in order to lead you away from the truth?”

“Yes.” I continue sewing, and she starts squirming again. “Sit still!” 

“It’s haaard, Bern!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the velcro thing was very directly inspired by meikov1.tumblr.com's fanart. it's very, very good :P
> 
> also, I've been toying around with the idea of streaming myself writing stuff on twitch recently, but idk if that would be something people would tune in to watch. for now, I'm just using it for video games. you can find me at ttv/doedipus, and I'll be posting about it at doedipus.tumblr.com.


	5. Horror of the Wingless Eagle - Reunion

Kyrie leaned back in her armchair and ran her thumb affectionately over the stock of the rifle that lay in her lap. She glared intently straight ahead at the door, as a falcon might scan a field for mice.  Did something like a witch exist? It flew in the face of everything she thought she knew about the world. While she felt proud that Battler had taken her rationalism to heart... she knew better than anyone that such an outlook had weaknesses. If there was something as outlandish as a witch who summons demons on this island, well, it was better to be prepared for the worst than to be caught off-guard. If she played her cards right, this Beatrice person would be trapped on the island with her, and not the other way around. 

Maria and Battler seemed to have made up since their little argument, and had returned to watching cartoons on tv. Nanjo and Rudolph played chess on a table near the window, a rifle slung over her husband’s back. When she’d checked on them half an hour ago, Rudolph had been getting routed pretty handily. No wonder. He did best in games where fearless bluffing and a bit of luck could carry him to victory. Strategy was never his forte. 

The others -Natsuhi, Krauss, and Gohda- had left to go search for any sign of Kumasawa. She’d offered to go, but Natsuhi insisted since she knew all of the old woman’s hiding spots by heart. How optimistic.  They’d be lucky to find her head in the same broom closet as her body.

“Uu- Butterfly?” Maria blurted out, quizzically.

Kyrie wheeled around to look. A single butterfly flitted about in the center of the parlor. It shimmered in the light as if made of gold leaf. With a start, she noticed another butterfly in the corner of her vision, then another, and another. 

“UU- UU-” Maria flapped her hands up and down excitedly. “It’s Beatrice! Beatrice!”

As more and more butterflies materialized into existence, they started to swirl around a single point, faster and faster. Kyrie took aim carefully, her stance practiced, and her trigger finger readied.  When the cloud had nearly become opaque, a shape like a human could barely be made out at the center.

She pulled the trigger. The ancient firearm in her hands screamed and roared as it fired its payload across the parlor. It pierced through the cloud, and  its occupant screamed in return, a haunting, inhuman wail like nothing she’d ever heard. The cloud of butterflies scattered, and reformed on the other side of the room.

In a practiced motion, she worked the lever on the rifle to eject the spent round and readied the next shot. Sweat dripped down her brow as she gazed down the sights and waited for the creature in front of her to again become flesh. Any moment now. 

...

There it is. Without hesitation she-

“UUUUU-” Maria rushed to her side and tried to push the rifle from her grip. Her aim swung wide, and the shot missed Battler’s arm by centimeters. “DON’T SHOOT HER! UUUU!”

“What the fuck?!” Rudolph exclaimed.

He jumped to his feet and awkwardly tried to retrieve his own rifle from his back, but it was too late. 

“Well, I can tell when I’m not wanted,” the witch cackled again. “ SATAN! LUCIFER! TEACH THESE HUMANS SOME RESPECT! ” 

Two more clouds of butterflies swirled into existence by her side, and coalesced into humanoid forms: two young women wearing outlandish costumes, one with long, straight black hair, and the other with wild shoulder length white hair.

Kyrie focused again on the witch and pulled the trigger. For the third time, the sounds of gunfire dominated the parlor... but she was too late. The witch had already returned to intangibility and scattered to the winds. 

Rudolph aimed at the black haired girl, but  before he could fire, she was upon him. A glowing red symbol shaped like a blade appeared about her arm, and she swung at him. He held his rifle up in front of his face, and the blade glanced off it harmlessly, leaving her open momentarily. Rudolph swung the gun’s stock down on her, but before he could connect,  she recovered and swept her blade at his feet, knocking him to the ground.

Kyrie prepared another shot and took aim at the girl standing over her husband,  but before she could line up a clear shot, the white haired girl was swallowed up by a magic circle, and appeared behind her, her arm snaking around Kyrie’s neck in a chokehold. She threw the gun to the ground, and tried to maneuver her neck to make room for blood to flow, then ducked and used the leverage to carry the girl forward and onto her back. The girl glowered up at her, a fire in her eyes that reminded her of Kasumi.

The black haired girl kicked Rudolph swiftly in the head , and he groaned. “Try not to make too much of an idiot out of yourself, sis,” she scolded. “If you get beaten up by some random human I’ll never let you live it down!”

“Fuck off!” the white haired girl swore.  Her form writhed and shimmered, and in a flash turned into a drill-like stake and shot past Kyrie’s head fast enough the wake made her ear pop. it bounced around the walls, displacing paintings and knickknacks and knocking splinters from the exposed beams in the ceiling.

Nanjo rose to his feet and scurried towards the door in a panic. The ricocheting stake smashed through the chess table behind him, sending pieces flying in all directions. Miraculously, he reached the exit and threw open the door. “I’ll- I’ll get help!” he assuaged, as he disappeared around the corner. 

Useless. It’s all useless. By the time he got back, they’d either all be dead or the problem would be solved.  And with Rudolph splayed on the floor, probably concussed, it was starting to look like the former. Kyrie took stock of her remaining options. Maria had already proven herself worse than useless. Battler was awkwardly trying to shield her with his body, but realistically all three of them would be better off if he did literally anything else. 

“Battler!” Kyrie called out, “Grab Rudolph’s gun and help me with these things!”

Battler looked nervously towards her, then appeared to steel himself and nodded. He bellowed as he charged for the rifle on the floor next to his prone father. The black haired girl languidly floated towards it as well, and  the blade-symbol appeared around her arm again. As he neared her, she thrusted her arm forward. Before the blade could connect, his foot landed on a bishop and he slipped and fell backwards, the blade barely grazing the tip of his nose.

The momentum carried the girl face first into the back of a couch, and her neck bent in a concerning direction. Battler scrambled to his feet and picked up the gun. He awkwardly examined the piece of machinery in his hands before aiming it at the stunned girl and firing. With his abysmal posture,  the recoil from the gun popped his shoulder out of alignment and he howled in pain. The bullet harmlessly perforated the couch next to the girl. So much for living up to his name. 

Kyrie readied her own rifle again and took another shot at the girl. Her aim was true, and a pool of blood began to soak through the back of her coat. She called to the others. “Battler! Maria! Let’s get out of here!”

“Uu?” Maria peeked out from behind the chair she’d hid behind, and rushed over towards the door as fast as she could. 

Battler clutched his aching shoulder and dashed towards them as well, but as he ran,  the flying stake deflected off an armrest and skewered him through the chest. He made an awful choking sound and fell to the ground, writing in pain.

Kyrie and Maria stopped in their tracks and wheeled around.  Battler clutched frantically at the wound in his torso, the pain replacing his sense with panic and confusion. Maria started towards him, and Kyrie chased after her and grabbed her arm. With a determined “Uu!” she wrested her arm from Kyrie’s grip and ran back towards Battler at full speed.

On the couch, the body of the black haired girl twitched and jolted back to life, and she wheeled around to face them. “That really hurt, you know,” she warned, “You’re lucky I don’t have time to properly pay you back, or else you’d be in much worse shape than this moron here.” she gestured derisively towards Battler. “Next time.”

Lightning fast, she darted forward and caught Maria under her arm, and soared up to the rafters.  “Come on kid, Beatrice is waiting for you in the golden land!” butterflies whirled around them, and in a flash, the pair was gone. 

Kyrie slumped to her knees, exhausted.  The last traces of life were dribbling out of her stepson before her. She briefly considered whether Nanjo would’ve been able to do anything if he had stayed, but... well, he probably would’ve died too if he had. 

Across the seating area, Rudolph groaned and laboriously pulled himself to his feet. He looked around the room, disorientated. “Was I unconscious?” 

“For a minute or two.” Kyrie supplied. “We should have Nanjo look at you later.”

“Yeah.” Rudolph agreed. His eyes scanned the room, and he took in the freshly bloodstained upholstery and carpet... and the remains of his son. “...Shit.”

“I tried to save them, but,” Kyrie trailed off.

“Yeah... Yeah.” Rudolph slumped down on the bloodied couch. He shielded his eyes with his hand, but Kyrie could see the tears streaming down his face. “Fuck, I- I wish things had been different... between us. God, I’m so sorry Battler.  And- and Asumu too. ”

Kyrie rested a reassuring hand on his back, but she felt the knot of jealousy, ever in her gut, tightening as she did. 

They sat in silence as they contemplated the passing of his son. Eventually Rudolph wiped the tears from his eyes and laughed to himself. “ I bet this is gonna look  _ really  _ bad, huh? "

* * *

I put the finishing touches on the violet heart I’d embroidered over the stitch in her cheek. “It’s fixed.”

“You gotta kiss it, Bern!” Lambda begs. “Otherwise it’s still gonna hurt!”

“Fine,” I grumble. I lean in and give her a peck on the cheek. “Happy?”

“Oh, I’m over the moon, babe,” Lambda swoons, hearts in her eyes. “Anyway, how about that battle sequence, huh Bern?”

“It was very flashy,” I commend. “But all it means is that  Kyrie and Rudolph must be either culprits or accomplices. It was pure fantasy. ”

“See? I told ya I’d never steer you wrong,” Lambda boasts.

“About half of that scene was written in Nepeta,” I observe, “so there’s a lot of material to go over.”

“Yup!” she nods emphatically. “So whatcha thinking?”

“I have a few observations.” 

“Care to share them with the class, babe?” Lambda prompts.

“We saw the scene with Jessica and Natsuhi from both perspectives, and the Nepeta text changed. So it has to be something related to the character’s point of view,” I explain, “But I’m still not sure about exactly what. I had been considering that it might be that it indicated things that were pure illusion, since a lot of the Nepeta dealt with the supernatural elements of Kyrie’s fight and the gore left behind by the culprit, but that wouldn’t make much sense when it came to the earlier sections.”

Lambda nods appreciatively. “Well, you’re right that it’s not all fantasy. After all, as detective, Natsuhi’s observations at the scene of a crime are as practically as good as red text. And of course, the conversation with Jessica and her fussing about the family conference are perfectly grounded.”

“Hmm,” I consider. I change the subject. “I’m worried that people disappear a lot without leaving corpses.”

“Ah, this again,” Lambda remarks, “Always so impatient, Bern. It’s like you’re begging Featherine for dinner five minutes after you ate! You gotta give me time to tell the whole story!”

“It’s very difficult to begin theorizing without knowing who’s dead. 

* * *

Natsuhi was furious. Kyrie, Nanjo and Rudolph had caught up with them moments ago and had been spinning a frightening and improbable yarn about why her niece and nephew weren’t with them. Every word out of their mouths made her headache worse.  Witches, butterflies, strange flying girls that turned into weapons... it all defied belief. But what else was she supposed to believe!  That her brother and sister in law allowed their own son to get murdered? Or, or maybe even...

“We couldn’t believe our eyes either.” Rudolph assured her. “But I swear we’re being straight with you.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Natsuhi replied, tactfully. “I can’t believe Battler’s gone. And oh god, I hope Maria is okay.”

“Mm,” Kyrie agreed. “I hope we can track her down  before anything happens. ”

“So, uh, any luck finding Kumasawa?” Rudolph inquired. 

“...No,” Natsuhi admitted. “We checked the servants’ quarters, and her usual hiding spots. The balcony, the library, behind the couch in the anteroom to Krauss’ office... I have no idea where else to look for her.”

“Well, how about we take the systematic approach,” Kyrie suggested. “We’ll split up. You have the key to the family head’s suite, so you, me, and Rudolph can go up to the third floor and work our way down room by room, and Krauss, Gohda, and Nanjo can start in the boiler room and work their way up.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Krauss agreed, “What should we do if one of us finds something?”

Kyrie shrugged. “Fire your gun? It’ll probably carry through the house better than yelling, at least. We can all meet up again in the portrait hall then.”

Krauss nodded emphatically. “That’s a great idea. I always wanted to get some use out of these things.” 

Natsuhi tried not to think too hard about  the bullet holes this plan would leave in her priceless furniture, but she decided to keep quiet so as not to contradict Krauss. In the back of her mind, she regretted disallowing the servants from using walkie-talkies. 

Come to think of it, if her suspicion of Kyrie and Rudolph proved correct... wasn’t being alone with them probably a terrible idea? “I- I think I’d like to go with my husband, if possible.”

“Oh don’t worry about me,” Krauss waved his hand dismissively. “I learned my lesson last time about messing with the boiler.” He turned to Rudolph. “Singed my eyebrows off trying to fix it a few months ago. Jessica wouldn’t let me hear the end of-” his voice caught. “Uh, well anyway. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“If- if you say so, dear,” Natsuhi acquiesced. 

She tried her damnedest to push the suspicion of her extended family out of her mind... but the tiniest inkling remained. Krauss clapped her on the back and she savored the fleeting affection as he turned and left for the cellar with Nanjo and Gohda. After he disappeared around the corner, she shared a grim, wordless glance with Rudolph and Kyrie, and made for the upper floor.

They wound their way up the stairs in silence, and began searching the rooms. While she rifled her way through the rooms, she tried to occupy her mind with the  _ other  _ major anxiety gnawing at the back of her mind:  what would she do when they got to the study? The last thing she wanted was for those two to find her father-in-law’s reeking corpse laying atop the bed inside. Maybe it was time to claim that he’d wandered off after all. 

This is what she’d do: she’d insist on going into the study alone. She’d stall for a bit and bump around some to make it sound like she was searching dutifully. And then, when enough time had passed, she’d emerge in a panic and explain that the head was nowhere to be found. But, well, they’d probably barge their way in afterwards to verify. So what could she do about that?  Those two were sharp enough that it would be hard to bluff them. With horror,  she realized that maybe the reason they had insisted on pairing off with her was specifically so they could investigate themselves.

“Eugh, what the hell,” Rudolph indicated to the next door in the hallway and grimaced. 

On the door was another occult-looking sigil, drawn in that same eerie blood-paint. Natsuhi felt adrenaline coursing through her and spiking her anxiety. Her stomach churned preemptively for what she’d find inside. As she approached the door and drew her keys,  she noticed that Rudolph and Kyrie had drawn their rifles. Was this how it ended? She squeezed her eyes shut and opened the door, half expecting to be dead in a heartbeat.

Warily, she took a deep breath and forced her eyes open. The sight before her was ghastly.  On one bed, the body of Kumasawa lay, face up, with another of those occult spikes protruding from her forehead. A garnish of spider lilies surrounded her. On the other, a gigantic mound of stuffed lions propped up the equally lifeless body of Maria. With a pang of sorrow, she remembered a year when she’d brought a similar toy and excitedly showed it off to the family members, to Rosa’s irritation.  On closer inspection, another spike had been wedged into her stomach.

She hid her face in her hands and sobbed. God... she was just a kid. And maybe she could be a bit creepy sometimes, but... well, she certainly didn’t deserve  _ this. _ And Kumasawa too. Sure, she had snapped at her for slacking off in the past, but she’d served the Ushiromiya family since long before she had married into it, and despite everything, it was hard not to think of her as sort of part of the family in a strange way. 

“It’s... awful,” Kyrie offered. She rested her hand on her shoulder in an attempt to reassure her, and Natsuhi started to wipe the tears from her eyes. 

...But, well, wasn’t this all their fault? 

“Take your hand off me!” Natsuhi demanded.

Kyrie recoiled, and looked taken aback.

“Don’t you offer your sympathy to me,” Natsuhi continued, “You’re the reason Maria is here in that awful state to begin with! And Battler too, wherever he is! You call yourself a mother, but you can’t even protect your own children! You’re- you’re a god damned disgrace!”

Rudolph and Kyrie exchanged a look. 

Kyrie turned away in anger and stormed over to the window and threw it open. She aimed the rifle at the ground below, her body tense and brows furrowed, and fired. 

...

“ Something smells like it’s burning, ” Kyrie observed after a moment. She looked around the courtyard below to try and find the source. She pointed down and to the side. “There. Does that go to the cellar?”

Natushi and Rudolph joined her.  Sure enough, a trail of smoke was seeping up from the stairway to the boiler room. “Ye- yes,” Natsuhi confirmed, sheepishly. 

“We should get down there,” Kyrie suggested. “You know the way, nee-san.”

Natsuhi nodded, and took the lead. The trio sped through the halls and down the stairs, through the empty portrait hall, and round to the door to the basement.  A long candelabra had been wedged under the door, barring it closed. With some effort, Rudolph tore it out of place and threw open the door.  A thick, black cloud of smoke and soot billowed out to greet them. With it came a scent like... charred meat? A brief memory of Krauss trying to grill hamburgers and melting the siding off the guest house flashed in her mind.

Rudolph coughed violently. “Fuck, what the hell happened in here?” he coughed some more for good measure. “Where’s the fucking light switch?”

Natsuhi pushed past him and held her breath as she felt around on the wall. After a moment of blind grasping, she flipped the switch and the ceiling light flickered to life. The harsh light from the bare bulb stung Natsuhi’s eyes and a jolt of pain from her migraine made her grimace and squeeze her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she screamed. 

Inside, the bodies of Krauss, Gohda, and Nanjo lay still on the ground. A demonic stake had been driven into Nanjo’s knee. 

She tried to run to her husband’s side, but Kyrie grabbed her arm before she could take a step. “Wait. We need to turn the boiler off first and let the smoke clear out. Then you can grieve.  Otherwise you might asphyxiate like they did. ” 

Natsuhi nodded and Kyrie released her arm. The three of them rushed to the console and Natushi tried to wipe the soot off with her handkerchief. The pilot lights shone dimly through their dingy bulbs. She slammed her fist on a bright red button labeled “STOP” and the fire in the furnace died down. 

It was then that they took notice of the furnace’s contents.  Two smouldering human legs stuck out of the opening, like logs fed to the fire. Another spike had been driven into one of the thighs.

“Twelve toes?” Rudolph remarked, “ Is that... dad? ”

The color drained from Natsuhi’s face. A scheming part of her was relieved that she didn’t have to hide the body any longer but... the rest of her was overcome with grief for the loss of her family. The trio trudged back up the steps to the hallway to wait for the air to purify, and Natsuhi slumped down against a wall. This was too much. It was all too much. First her daughter, then so many other family members, then finally her husband all in one day. Sure, there were times when those people frustrated her or berated her, but... she missed them all so much now that they were gone. 

Rudolph excused himself to circle around to the courtyard and open the other door so it’d go faster. As he rounded the corner, Natsuhi could see his eyes glistening with tears as well. Once both doors were open, they figured it was safe enough to enter. Their footsteps echoed on the concrete floor as they looked over the bodies left in repose on the ash-covered floor. Rudolph pulled the corpse from the furnace to examine it, but the extra toes were the only identifying feature the flames left. Though of course, Natsuhi knew that after two years there wouldn’t have been much to see anyway.

She stooped over her husband’s body and sobbed, her whole body shaking with exertion. Tears streamed down her cheeks with no end in sight as she mourned his loss, and she did her best to recite some rites in between bawls. After some time had passed, she realized she was all alone in the room. Those two had finally left her to die as well? Fine. So be it.  They probably collaborated with the killer in the first place. She busied herself again trying to keep the memories of her family fresh in her mind. She hoped someday she could be reunited with them.

Natsuhi heard a shuffling sound as someone descended the staircase. She didn’t move from her spot among the dead, or turn to greet them. In truth, she couldn’t stand to look at Rudolph or Kyrie after the day’s events. If she never saw them again, it would be too soon.  The footsteps continued their approach, until they came to a stop beside her. There was a rustling as the figure stooped down to join her.

A small, trembling voice called out: “ Hey, mom. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here, I got a golden truth for ya: the golden fantasia gif features rudolph holding a gun and not alt-color battler set to standing block in training mode :P
> 
> the answer portion is coming up next, so get your theories in order. some of the puzzles I snuck in here demand some "deviant" thinking to pick through *cackle* *cackle* *cackle*

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutouts to the Umineko Screenshot Generator at https://hikukastel.net/generator/generator.html


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